


the flaw on our time

by thejericho (lipsticktovoid)



Series: You Must Come Back [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, I'm Sorry, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, a lot of hugs and love, also they live on freaking xandar like what the shit, basically an infinity war kind of au, bucky is friends with groot, for a moment but still, gays in space, heavy angst again, original trans character who's name is chavez and he's super cool, shit i just cant seem to stop writing angst can i, they're happy!!, wanda and bucky are friends yayy, xandar is offically the planet deflowered by gays now okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-08-22 13:02:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8286769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lipsticktovoid/pseuds/thejericho
Summary: What if you could undo the things you regret the most?





	1. Broken Radio

**PROLOGUE**

***

“What if you could _undo_ the things you regret the most?” The voice is hoarse, powerful, and echoes through Steve’s head. It’s heard with increasing dissonance, like an upcoming train or a hammer hitting glass. “Save the ones you loved.” The words hit his ears like thousands of tiny needles, prickling. “Save _Bucky_.” The last word hurts like static from a broken radio.

He covers his ears with his hands and curls into a squat, like a helpless child. He is unarmed. Even if he wasn’t, he could do nothing; it just seems natural not to fight back. He has no idea what’s happening - his mind isn’t his, not entirely, and the ground is so, so cold.

“Don’t be afraid,” he hears the voice again, but he can’t recognize it, can’t attribute it to anyone he knows. “I can feel it, too.”

And he can’t tell if it’s the earth that moves or if it’s him, but he feels the change after a brief moment, and that makes his heart quiver in fear. He feels the sharp rocks beneath the soles of his feet. They’re black and shiny; the only thing his mind can come up with is carbon. The ground looks like silver stars in the night’s dark sky, and he thinks it’s oddly beautiful.

“What have you done to me?” he frowns.

“I manipulate time and space,” the voice is slow and frightfully calm. “And people, of course.” Although he still isn’t quite registering the sound, Steve feels as if its owner could be slightly smiling; and it sends chills all over his body.

Steve turns toward the source of the voice, and he knows in that instant that it wasn’t of his own volition. It scares him a lot, the idea that somebody can pull his own strings without his knowledge. He feels even more defenseless than before.

He’s looking at a man now – he guesses. A very odd man, he’s never seen anyone like him. Purple skin, cracked face, gold suit of armor. “Who are you?” he asks with a shaky voice.

“You know who I am,” the man says shortly. “And I want you to consider my offer,” he laughs huskily, clenching his hands on the armrests of his chair.

“I don –,” and before Steve can finish the sentence, his legs are swept away from the ground before his heavy body cracks against the wall behind him. He can feel his bones crack as he falls onto the ground, his face now inches from the sparkly rocks. He moans as he tries to make a move, feeling like a puppet, or maybe a ragdoll.

“As if you had a choice,” He hears that awful voice again, and then the same hoarse laugh. “Take a  look…”

And in a split second he’s in a completely different place. He recognizes it. It’s his home. Brooklyn. He sees a kid - himself. And he sees the hand he reaches for, pulling his scrawny self off the ground. _Bucky_. The sunlight. The old house. His mom. He smells dinner, the river, cigarettes. The hand is so soft, so steady, so trustworthy. _Bucky_. He hears his laugh. Their laughs. He’s just right there.

_“How many times have you toyed with this memory before falling asleep?”_

 He’s looking at _Bucky_ now. So closely. He’s right above him, leaning on his elbows, looking into Steve’s eyes. So deeply. Grinning so charmingly. And then kissing his lips so gently. Touching his face so softly. And it feels so real.

_“Or this one?”_

He’s wandering a dark hallway. He doesn’t recognize it at first, but it’s the train. He can feel the rail-car shaking, can see the cargo, can feel the cold. It’s as if he never left it. His train of thought is broken as a closing door sounds behind him, and whips his head around. He sees him through the glass porthole, _Bucky_. He’s locked in. Steve can’t help him; he tries to open the door but fails. Then he hears gunshots. Chaos.

Then he’s lying on the ground, cold steel and icy-blue light overwhelming his senses. He hears the blast, and all of a sudden he finds himself hanging off the wagon’s wall. Reaching out to _Bucky_. He sees the thin metal bar bending, creaking.  He can feel Bucky’s hand touching his. Even in a memory, even in a deadly situation, his touch never fails to make Steve’s heart flutter.

But then, just like that, Bucky’s not there. His hand slipped – again. He sees the look on his face as Bucky reaches upward while gravity drags him downward – _again._

“You could have saved him.”

Steve feels a tear streaming down his cheek.

“You _still can_ save him.”

And the pictures flicker behind his eyelids. Torture. Beatings. Wiping his mind. Over and over again. The constant pain.

“How many times have you tried to imagine the pain he’s been put through, the pain _you_ put him through?” The voice is steady, and it wraps itself around Steve’s head like a spell. “You can go back. Save him.”

Steve stares blankly at the space rocks on the ground. Blood from his face drips onto the ground, giving them a reddish tint. He doesn’t need any more persuasion.

“What do you want?” he asks indifferently, his voice quiet.

The man smiles widely.

***


	2. Stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry again for the long break. The chapter is longer than usually, hope that can make it up for you ;)
> 
> Thanks to my awesome editor, as always, you're doing god's work.

The light is cold and blue; it shatters on their faces as they lie in the dark. They share a bed as always, and this one is huge. Steve can’t believe how different the housing standards are on Xandar; he thinks they make Earth look like a tiny cardboard box, and all its people like beggars. They like it, they really do. Everything is so unlike home. Streets full of aliens, or – as Steve guesses – citizens, as _they_ are the aliens here now. The food is exquisite, the architecture is breathtaking, and what the natives use for transport – it’s terrific. But they both finally feel free. It’s odd how little the residents care about humans on Earth. They may even feel some kind of affiliation; they’re not 100% humans anymore, but this place gives them a wisp of normality – no matter how ridiculous it may sound.

“I can’t stop thinking about how the name of this planet reminds me of Xanax,” murmurs Bucky, jokingly.

“You should really go to sleep,” Steve laughs while giving Bucky a stern look.

“Oh come on, Stevie, don’t spoil the fun, you old asshole.” Bucky chides, propping up on his elbow.

Steve bursts out laughing, then turns to look at Bucky, at how beautiful he looks now. He may even go so far as to say he looks happy. “The truth is…it reminds me of Xanax, too,” he giggles right in front of Bucky’s face.

“Jesus, I feel like I’m at a girls’ sleepover,” Bucky shakes his head. He continues in a high-pitched voice, “we can fight with pillows now, then crush over Captain Amer –“ he frowns, “ – oh, wait.”

Steve nudges him in the ribs, laughing almost hysterically as Bucky curls up on the bed. He quickly climbs on top of him, giving Bucky a chaste kiss, stroking his cheeks.

“Dear God, are we in fucking kindergarten?” Bucky yanks him into a kiss, deepening it with each second. He cards his hand into Steve’s hair, parting it with his fingers.

“You jerk,” smiles Steve into a kiss.

Bucky rolls them over, placing himself on the top, and almost completely covers Steve’s body in the process. He keeps kissing Steve like his life depends on it, and soon finds Steve’s hand in his pants. He gasps into the kiss, smiling at the same time.

“God, you’re so hard,” Steve breathes, helping Bucky take his shirt off.

Bucky completely separates their lips before laying on his back and struggling to take his sweatpants off, which Steve immediately helps him with. He spreads Bucky’s legs and slips in-between them, before reaching up to cradle Bucky’s face in his hands while he kisses him.

“Just get in there, punk,” he giggles, and Steve thinks he feels butterflies in his belly. His face burns bright-red, and he’s glad Bucky can’t see it.

But he does as Bucky says. Bucky wraps his legs around Steve, tracing his skin with his fingers and tangling his hand through Steve’s golden hair, which is now darkened with sweat. They settle into a slow, burning rhythm, sighing with every beat. Steve doesn’t know how he usually manages to stay quiet, but sometimes – like this time -  Bucky just can’t keep the moans inside his mouth.

“We’re just – fucking – oh…on a fuckin’…Xandar -” Bucky can’t help but laugh as he tightens his arm around Steve even more.

“Imagine how many humans have done this on Xandar already,” Steve sighs into his ear, and Bucky swears to the heavens that his voice can do wonders.

“Maybe – oh – Rogers. Maybe we’re first.”

“We gotta tell someone,” he breathes, grinning. “I can see the headlines: _first people to ever screw in space_.”

“Oh – fuck. We’re…making history now,” Bucky mumbles. “And we’re gay.” He laughs as Steve tries to kiss him again.

“Guess we have to do it right, then.” Steve suddenly speeds up, like he’s not tired at all, and Bucky bites his tongue as he tries not to squeal.

“Of fuck you!” he moans, maybe a bit too loudly. It doesn’t make Steve stop, though; it does quite the opposite, actually.

They stop caring if anyone could hear them. Bucky begins to focus on trying to keep his soul from leaving his own damn body, and Steve is being very distracting. They finish at the same time, sighing in unison. Steve just lies there, crushing Bucky like a goddamned rock, but Bucky doesn’t mind. He gently strokes Steve’s hair with his hand and kisses his forehead while trying to catch his breath. He feels hot, as if the sun had just swallowed him up, but he’s not going to bother disturbing Steve. He actually likes it; he’s had enough of the cold for one lifetime.

 

Bucky wakes up early the next morning, one red sphere emerging over the horizon, followed by another yellow one. It’s a strange phenomenon to him, but he doesn’t mind the sleeping difficulties it causes him. He can marvel at the beautiful sunrise of two stars. He remembers watching Star Wars with Steve, how stunning the sundown on Tatooine was, and how they both wished they could one day see something that beautiful with their own eyes.

And here they are. Living on a planet with two sunrises and two sunsets, gifted with the opportunity to be entranced by the indescribability of all this, together.

Bucky leans over the windowsill, staring at the extraordinarily clear blue sky. Xandarians have already begun to fly to work, or whatever they do in this world - the planes are wandering through the sky, leaving trails of snow-white clouds behind them. He doesn’t think they’ll ever get used to it, even though they’ve seen a pretty great deal of unusual things in their lives already. But how could a human being embrace the entirety of an another planet, just like that? It’s a brand new world.

He turns around to look at Steve, who’s covered in bed sheets while laying floppily with his face stuck to a pillow. Steve always looks happy, even when he sleeps, but there’s this odd sense of relief painted on his face. And Bucky smiles at that; he tilts his head down like he’s trying to hide it, though he can’t stop looking at Steve anyway.

If he could, he’d give Steve the entire world – whatever that means. Because Steve deserves it, he deserves every damn thing, peace and happiness above all. Bucky has nothing to offer but his love and affection, but if he owned the whole world - if he owned something so fragile and firm at the same time, just as the world is - he would give it to Steve. Average people give gifts to each other as a sign of love; he would give Steve everything he’s ever owned, and that probably still wouldn’t be enough.

He goes to lay down next to Steve. He embraces him and shoves his face into the back of his neck, breathing him in, feeling his warmth. Steve mumbles something into the pillow before grabbing Bucky’s hand and squeezing it in a tight grip, keeping it close to his heart. The constant, rhythmic beating never fails to calm Bucky down when he hears it, no matter how silly that sounds – he’s glad that Steve’s alive. He’s glad they’re both alive, together, at the same time, in the same bed.

His mind flashes to his mother, back when he was just an innocent kid. She used to talk to him about people and about love. She’d always tell him that someday he’d find the right woman and he’d love her with all his heart, and how she’d be his own goddamn sun, and how when he’d look at her, she’d shine just as bright. That she’d be his refuge, his home and family, his shelter and salvation. That she’d make him grow up and learn how to love.

He presses his face even harder into Steve’s neck, smiling uncontrollably. “I found you,” he whispers.

 

***

 

Bucky meets the rest of the Avengers after a few days. It’s overwhelming at first, but he quickly gets used to it. The most noticeable thing about them – they’re never quiet.

He likes Thor, despite that “all-mighty” atmosphere surrounding him and the fact that the guy always sounds like he’s quoting Shakespeare. Steve said it was surprising to see him in human clothing. Bucky was confused, as he didn’t know what else the demi-god could possibly wear, which resulted in Thor attempting to explain Asgardian fashions to him. Thor is very friendly, which is why Bucky feels safe around him. Thor told him that soon enough Bucky’s hair would be as long as his own, which had Bucky wildly contemplating himself as a blonde. Later on he asked Steve, “Do you, too, think he looks like Flash Gordon?”

Peter gives him a strange feeling akin to incertitude, but he can’t explain why. The guy’s just strange. Not only is he wearing all leather, but his way of being – the constant jokes and that child-like attitude - makes Bucky oddly troubled. You never know what he’s about to do. Oh, and the fact he named himself Star-Lord, that confuses Bucky, too. Steve thinks it’s silly, and he actually seemed to be quite pleased with meeting Quill. Maybe Bucky will get used to him.

The most unusual meeting involved being introduced to a Raccoon and a Tree. At first it was hard to actually spot the Tree, and Bucky was constantly afraid he’d step onto his tiny pot and hurt him, but Groot – as he said, like, a dozen times – was mostly holding onto Rocket, or was being held in his hands. Bucky couldn’t stop thinking how cute they were, and as they were spending more time together, he noticed that Rocket was pretty overprotective with Groot. He never let his eyes off the tiny Tree, and was constantly asking Groot if he’d needed anything. Bucky was truly stunned when he realized that Rocket could fully understand Groot. Sometimes they reminded Bucky of Steve and himself; he could see the same behavioral patterns, which eventually led him to believe that something big must have happened to the two of them. He never got a chance to ask for himself, though, as Rocket explained everything as soon as they had a minute to talk. Bucky felt a strange connection at the very moment, and he shared something from his and Steve’s personal life as well: what had happened to his arm. He noticed that Rocket was trying hard to look like he didn’t care too much, like he would love to find himself in a completely different place, and Groot looked like he was about to scold him for it. They basically looked like an old married couple, and Peter was making fun of it whenever Groot said the only words he could, while Rocket responded with something like, “Oh you better shut up, I know what I’m doing.”

Bucky thinks he likes Groot the most, despite the fact that they couldn’t really communicate. Something about him was just charming and peaceful – and it made him want to be friends with the tree.

They met Gamora, too, although she wasn’t all as friendly or nice. She seemed as if she tried, but Bucky could tell that something was wrong, and it was probably the impending war that they were supposed to fight. He tried not to think about it too much; their fate wasn’t sealed yet, after all. Indiscreetly, Rocket told him that Thanos was her father, or that at least used to be. He tried his best to wrap his head around that, and decided to let her rest rather than get to talkative with her. He was happy to see her befriend Natasha and Wanda pretty quickly, though.

Oh yes, Wanda. They had actually met earlier on, not too long before Steve and Tony decided to beat the shit out of one another. Although they didn’t have much time to get to know each other, Bucky quickly began to like her, and he likes to think that she feels the same way. It looked quite awkward meeting everyone again, especially her – Steve introduced Bucky to everyone as if he were introducing his boyfriend to his mother. Wanda giggled a lot, nudging Steve in the ribs. Bucky thought that maybe Steve would have told everyone about their relationship at some point during the two years in which he was frozen; maybe not. Wanda was pretty surprised (definitely not, then), but clearly happy regardless. She squeezed Steve and Bucky in a warm embrace, kissing both of their cheeks.

Bucky has no idea who Drax is, but Rocket said he couldn’t show up, “for reasons.” Peter assured him that there was nothing interesting about Drax, and that the guy takes everything literally. He also said, “if he saw your arm, he would probably make himself cry,” which disturbed Bucky to an extent. He was told that they’d meet Drax sooner or later.

After pretty long introduction, they sat around a huge table and began to discuss the battle strategy. All of their expressions were absolutely oozing with enthusiasm.

Bucky quickly stops paying attention. He doesn’t intend to -  his brain just retreats into its own little world. Nobody seems to be trying to tie their plans with him anyway, though Steve looks pretty busy browsing through some pictures of space objects, before giving long answers to questions and then drawing curvy lines on a map with a red marker.

While contemplating this battle they’re about to fight, Bucky can’t help but think of the future, as he always does. He’s quite terrified; his heart pounds faster and faster with each second, but the actual panic comes slower. It fills his stomach gradually, until he finally manages to swallow it down and shut his emotions completely off. Ever since he knew they were going to fight, he’s been having dreams about Steve’s death nearly every night. He’s never mentioned them to Steve – not that it would have changed anything – but now he’s daydreaming, too. He’s dreaming of his worst fear coming to life: losing the one thing he loves most. In his mind, he can see Steve leaving him and never coming back. He can see the empty house, the empty world.

Suddenly the room becomes quiet, and the change startles Bucky like a gunshot. His eyes settle on everyone else’s; they look at him expectantly, as if they’re waiting for him to answer a question he hadn’t heard.

“Are you okay?” Steve puts his hand on Bucky’s back, softly rubbing it in small circles.

“Sorry, I…” His eyes are wide like a deer’s in headlights. He shakes his head to clear it and takes a deep breath. “Sorry. What happened?” he breathes quietly.

“It’s okay,” Steve says, smiling gently, “Gamora, would you?”

“Yes. Well, I don’t know where we lost you, but there’s a small problem,” she says with a lowered voice.

Bucky frowns and looks at Steve, who’s keeping his eyes down. They almost look guilty. “Yeah?” he asks, his voice hesitant and small.

“We don’t think you’re able to fight,” says Gamora bluntly. “Not only are you disabled, but your mental state could make you dangerous to others or to yourself. You’re at high risk for behaving erratically, no offence.” She softly and quietly lays her hands on the table.

“Gamora…” murmurs Steve in warning. He takes a deep breath. The room is so quiet that Bucky’s sure everybody could hear it clearly. “I don’t think we should discuss this right now…”

“Steve. I think we’ve discussed it already,” she says neatly, crossing her arms. “We can’t allow James to endanger the mission. You were a Captain, you of all people should be aware that a team is only as strong as its weakest link.”

“Fine. We can stay here. I don’t see a problem. That’s better, even…” Bucky’s voice trails off as he observes the pitiful looks on everyone’s faces.

Natasha lets out a sad sigh. “James,” she says, her voice soothing, but still somehow strong, firm. “Steve can’t stay with you.”

The words hit Bucky like shards of glass as he feels his nightmares turning into reality.

Bucky manages to look up at Steve. He’s silent; his eyes look at his hands, which are still sitting on the glass table-top.

“Say something,” Bucky whispers.

Steve raises his eyes up towards him. They’re very pale now, almost grey, and Bucky can tell that he’s trying to keep them blank. “I’m so sorry…” Steve says, his voice tight.

“I _do not_ agree,” Bucky says suddenly. “I’ve got something to say too, right?” his fists tighten, and his volume rises with each word. “You can’t leave me…” he whispers again, before crying out, “You can’t! You _ass_ hole!”

Steve rests his hands on Bucky’s shoulders, trying to ground him again.

“Can’t you be selfish for _once_?! Always trying to save the goddamned world!” Bucky stands up, Steve rising with him. “How can you leave me again?” The light catches the tears that have just started to fall down Bucky’s cheeks.

“I’m _not_ leaving you, I _will_ come back. _I promise_.” Steve says firmly, but panicked.

“I don’t give a _fuck_ about your promise!” Bucky shouts, trying to shrug Steve’s hands off of him. “You can’t know that! _You will die!_ You _will_ leave me alone!”

“Bucky, stop, please!” Steve tries to grasp his shoulders again, but fails when they’re no longer where they should be.

Bucky turns around, breathing heavily, to face everyone again. After a second, he walks out the door.

As soon as he hits the hallway, he starts running. He makes random turns every once in a while; he isn’t completely sure where he’s going, and he isn’t completely sure that he cares. He eventually stops once it feels like there’s a white-hot branding iron in his lungs. The burning sensation punctuates each breath.

He takes a moment to observe his surroundings. He’s in some room full of – what he guesses to be – pipes. To each side, there’s a solid wall of metal ducting; he’s in a sort of nook. The air and the ground are cold and wet, and droplets of water (is it water?) sound every few seconds. It’s dark, and the only lighting Bucky can see is that which reflects off of the pipes – it’s an eerie blue color. Bucky isn’t sure where the source is, or how far away he is from it.

He wishes he could stay in there forever (it’s not like he remembers how to get back, after all). Despite the cold, and the wet, and the general creepy vibe, he finds that there’s something comforting about this place. He likes the silence, apart from the rhythmic _drip_ of the water. He likes the idea of the chance that nobody would ever find him there. If he waits there for Steve, he’d probably be waiting forever.

His eyes burn all of a sudden, and when he blinks it occurs to him that he’s been crying this whole time. So he cries even more. His body trembles with pain every time his mind portrays Steve dying over and over again, though every time he opens an eye, the picture dissipates. He prays that the last hour was a dream, and not a memory.

 

***

 

After so many moments of constant darkness, he sees a dim, red light reflecting in the water on the ground, growing brighter with each step that now echoes throughout his little hideaway. He hears his name float from soft, accented voice, momentarily unfamiliar to his groggy senses.

“Here you are.”

He finally sees Wanda’s face, smiling gently and framed with red shimmers. The swirls and sparkles in her right hand dim as she reaches it out towards Bucky.

“How did you find me?” he croaks, grabbing her hand and standing up warily.

“Well, I had to use some of this,” she spins her left hand unhurriedly, staring at the red fire. “I’m sorry for that. Steve’s really worried about you,” her voice grows more worried as she thinks about why she’d searched for Bucky in the first place. Her eyebrows furrow as the tiny clump of sparks in her left hand begins to fizzle erratically.

“Yeah, its fine,” he nods, “I’m no stranger to mind control,” he says, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Wanda sighs as she leads them towards the exit. “I _am_ sorry. I didn’t change anything inside your head – I did this to find you,” she says quietly.

Bucky continues to tread behind her, now silent. He feels stupid for chiding at Wanda, of all people. It almost makes him want to slap himself in the face. “It’s… fine,” he mumbles, trying to make his voice sound lighter, less…depressed. ”Thanks – sorry.” He can’t see Wanda’s face, but he hopes there’s at least a hint of a smile on her heart-shaped face.

“I understand,” she says after a moment. “I understand how you feel.”

Bucky looks up, eyebrows raised. He takes it as an assent of his pithy apology and decides to remain quiet for the rest of the time.

 

 

They encounter Steve on the third floor, which startles everyone, and leads Bucky to suspect they weren’t supposed to reunite like this.

But as soon as Steve lays eyes on Bucky, he springs from his resting place against the wall and entraps Bucky in a tight embrace, before the metal-clad hero has a chance to object. It takes few seconds for Bucky to place his hand on Steve’s back, as he’s still not sure whether he wants to hug him at the moment. Eventually though, he just goes for it, unable to resist the warmth of Steve’s body.

“Bucky…” Steve murmurs into his neck, “please, don’t disappear like that.” He squeezes him even tighter. “You’ve been gone for two hours, I was so worried,” his voice is so earnest, and Bucky knows that Steve is being truly honest.

“Sorry…” whispers Bucky, now stroking Steve’s back with his right hand. He stiffens as he remembers that they have company, but when he looks up he finds that Wanda is nowhere to be seen.

And anyway, Steve can’t seem to get enough. He keeps holding Bucky like he’s going to float away at any second.

“Will you stay?” Bucky asks hesitantly, not sure if he really wants to know the answer.

Steve doesn’t say anything for a long minute, and Bucky feels like he already knows the answer _._ He can feel himself wilting, his chin trembling, and he does his best to stop the tears.

“Sweetheart,” Steve starts, his voice shaky, “I have to do everything I can to keep you safe.” He can’t help but let out a couple whines at seeing the love of his life in such a state. “And the only way to do that is to fight the ones that don’t let me,” he smiles, and a tear rolls down his cheek. He pulls away from Bucky, still grasping his shoulders. Steve brushes his hair behind his ear, trying to uncover his face, before caressing Bucky’s cheek with his thumb. “If I don’t go, we’ll…” he breathes. “We won’t survive.”

“You’re just one man,” Bucky insists, shaking his head. He turns his worried eyes directly into Steve’s. “It changes nothing.”

Steve continues stroking his cheek. “It can change a lot,” he counters softly. “People are dying, Buck,” his voice lowers as it hardens. “On Earth.”

“They’re always dying.”

Steve sighs, “No, _he_ ’s killing them now.” He embraces Bucky again. “ _He’ll keep_ killing them. _I can’t let that happen.”_

Bucky suddenly sees Steve as Captain America on the metal bridge, his face filled with indescribable pain, standing right before him, ready to fight.

_People are going to die, Buck._

_I can’t let that happen._

His face promptly turns stone-still, and The Asset catches the shield the moment it leaves Steve’s hands.

 

***

 

They don’t sleep that night, not at all. Everybody remains seated around the glass table, Bucky included. They’re still refining their plan, adding more strategies and backups.

Among these additions are people. The greetings are formal and cold – everyone seems to recognize the fact that there’s no need for formalities. Bucky makes himself see them as soldiers, withholding any friendliness or affection in case they’re all killed on the battlefield. He just doesn’t want them to feel what he knows he’s going to feel.

He sees a woman with a blonde pixie-cut (another fashion-related term he’s learned from Nat). She looks fierce, whether she means to or not – as soon as she enters the room, the atmosphere of it is charged with severity and alertness. Bucky misses her name, but he manages to peek at Steve’s notes, which fortunately have the names of the newcomers. It’s Carol Danvers.

Despite the tension, she smiles for a brief moment before pointing to the man behind her and saying, “this is Stephen Strange.”

The man tentatively raises his shaking hand. “It’s ‘Doctor.’” He sighs tiredly as they both sit.

Bucky catches Stephen looking at his missing arm and tightens his fingers around Steve’s.

“You okay?” asks Steve. Bucky nods.

 

At some point, the room is filled with the chatter of individual conversations, and Bucky uses the opportunity to talk to Steve.

“When are you leaving?” he asks.

“Tomorrow morning,” says Steve, his voice weary.

Bucky looks down. He feels unprepared – not that he expected them to wait any longer. It just leaves him no time for a meaningful goodbye. He doesn’t think it would make him feel any better, but still.  “Can we go now?” he asks quietly.

Steve looks at him sadly, as if to say that there’s nothing he could do. Nonetheless, he leans over to Natasha, who’s sitting next to him, and asks when the meeting will end.

She frowns at him. “Do you really think I always know everything?” Bucky gives out a tiny laugh at her answer, which in turn brings a smile to Steve’s eyes. Natasha begins to smirk as well.

“Guess it won’t last much longer. We’re heading to the end,” she sits back, crossing her arms.

 

***

 

They’re lying on the bed, arms wrapped around each other. The suns aren’t up yet, though the aura from the red one is already visible just above the horizon. Its light is filtered through the blinds, painting pink stripes on their bodies and the bed sheets.

They’ve spent the night staring into each other’s eyes, memorizing every detail of the other’s face. They’ve shared final kisses, final secrets, final declarations of affection.

“Steve…” whispers Bucky, caressing Steve’s cheek. “ _You must come back_.”

“I will,” Steve says comfortingly, but the gloom in his eyes betrays him. “I promise. _I will come back_.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Bucky pulls himself even closer.

Steve kisses his forehead, tears forming in his eyes. “ _I love you_ ,” he whispers into Bucky’s hair.

“ _I love you_.” A single tear falls from Bucky’s cheek onto Steve’s chest.

 


	3. End of The Line

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ho, ho, merry xmas to everyone! tho there's no holiday motive in fic i hope you still enjoy it :>

Bucky walks on Steve’s left as they pace the corridors, the glass walls leaking bright light. Their legs are shaking; their stomachs are filled with fear; they’re unable to make a single sound. Bucky peeks at Steve’s face over and over, and each glance gives him an identical view of a grave expression. He’s always admired Steve’s ability to maintain a perfect poker face, no matter what hardships he’s enduring. Now Bucky secretly wishes that Steve’s face could betray him just this once; just to reveal what he’s feeling inside.

It doesn’t. His features don’t waver at all, not even slightly. Steve almost looks like he’s blank, like the fear has already consumed him entirely. Bucky hesitates for a moment before he grabs Steve’s cold hand and squeezes it as hard as he can.

As they find themselves in the elevator, Steve can’t take his eyes off of Bucky’s face. He only blinks twice, but he’s not worried about making Bucky uncomfortable. He’s just worried about memorizing every feature of his face.

Bucky can’t read anything from Steve’s expression, so he stops trying. He moves himself closer before resting his head on Steve’s shoulder. And to his surprise, Steve presses his cheek to Bucky’s hair and wraps his arm around his waist, sighing quietly.

“You look hot in that black suit,” Bucky chuckles softly, wrapping his arm around Steve’s waist. After a pregnant pause, he hears a soft little chuckle from above him, the sound of which makes his lips curl in a tired little smile.

Then, the doors open to a huge hangar, and they spot the rest of the team a few dozen yards away. Bucky can feel knots twisting in his stomach as soon as he realizes what’s about to happen. His mind tells him to yank Steve by the arm and run away as fast as he possibly can, but his legs have already stopped in their track, glued to the floor like two blocks of concrete. He looks at Steve, who’s stopped with him.

Bucky then hears a soft sigh, which causes Steve to straighten up and hesitantly start forward again. So Bucky follows him like he always does.

They eventually reach the others, and surprisingly (or maybe not) none of them are smiling. Bucky remembers their old times on the battlefield, when the soldiers were preparing for missions. They were always smiling, even when they had no reason to; there was never any time for grieving. None of their witty jokes seemed to leave them.

He crouches to face Groot, who’s dressed in his tiny brownish leather suit and looking into Bucky’s soul with his big brown eyes. Bucky tucks his hair behind his ears, then forces himself to smile. “Hey, keep an eye on Steve, alright?” he says with a soft voice. Groot looks at him – and Bucky swears he sees some form of compassion in his eyes - then says faithfully, “I am Groot.”

He stands back up to hug Sam, who pats his back saying, “I’ll bring him home. No matter what.” Bucky looks at him fondly, seeing the great man and friend Sam is, and wishes that he would stay there with him. “Thank you,” he says at last.

T’Challa then approaches him, pulling him into an embrace. The vibranium suit feels cool and weird against Bucky’s body, but it doesn’t bother him in the slightest. “We’ll be just fine, brother,” T’Challa gently embraces Bucky in a warm hug, grinning briefly.

When Bucky turns around, he sees Thor standing right in front of him, and Bucky is finally able to witness Asgardian fashion in all its glory. “I think you should lighten your hair,” the demi-god whispers, “as a surprise for Rogers when he returns.” He grabs Bucky’s shoulder and gives a sly wink along with a warm smile. Bucky actually chuckles then nods to Thor.

He’s saluted by Rocket, who stands on the passage of the spaceship waiting for Groot to bounce over to him. Rocket grabs his tiny twig hand and leads him inside.

Natasha, like everyone else, pulls him into a tight embrace. She says with the snarky, perky voice that is her trademark, “Don’t worry about Steve. He’ll move heaven and Earth to come back to you.” She smiles emphatically, her eyes trying to convey to Bucky the truth of her words.

Then there’s Wanda, who squeezes Bucky with more strength than he thought she had. “See you soon,” she says, and nothing else. She waves, facing him as she walks backwards into the ship, and as the shadows from its hull swallow her, he can still make out her signature scarlet glow.

Though it’s evident that everyone has said their goodbyes, Bucky stays near the ship’s door with Steve before him, alone. And just as Bucky begins to think of it, Steve’s arms wrap around him, pulling what feels like the last breath of life out of his chest. Both of them bury their faces into each other’s shoulders, and Steve strokes Bucky’s hair with his fingers.

“I love you so much,” Bucky lets out a muffled whisper, and he feels the material of Steve’s suit becoming wet under his cheeks.

“I love you too, Bucky.” Steve’s voice is full of fondness and honesty, he speaks so earnestly and sincerely that it sounds like something he’d be willing to scream to the world. Bucky can imagine Steve butting in with some corny joke, like _‘You are my world, Bucky!’_

“Till the end of the line, pal,” Steve concludes as they pull back. He slowly releases Bucky’s hand.

And Bucky, who is shocked to the point of speechlessness, tries to memorize this moment the best he can, in case it’s their last. His attempts are interrupted by the wind of the engines springing to life. The blast ruffles their hair; Bucky’s longer strands whip around his face, while Steve’s cropped ones simply rustle above his face. Bucky watches Steve board the ship and then turn around, and for a moment – for one brief, fleeting moment – he thinks Steve has changed his mind.

But when Steve catches Bucky’s attention again, it’s to gesture for him to retreat back from the loading area so he’s not in the way when the ship takes off. Bucky thinks it’s also likely that Steve is trying to get him to ‘let go’ in some way.

He hesitates for a brief moment, unwilling to let Steve leave his sight for good, but the wind is pushing against him harder now. When he turns to walk away, between the dust flying and the hair whipping around his eyes, he catches a glimpse of Steve’s smile. He rushes to the exit, holding his hair so he can see, and when he steps through the door, he can hear the engines fade into the distance.

He’s alone now. The elevator ride is unbearably quiet; he can hear the sound of his clothes and his skin against the glass as he sinks to the floor. His mind is unwilling to settle on any one thought, and he’s unwilling to try. He just stares at nothing until the soft ring of the elevator brings him back.

On the twelfth floor, they left a backpack with Bucky’s clothes and belongings, which he had prepared to take with himself on the mission. Steve had his own luggage, too – he’d stored it in the ship as soon as they’d arrived.

Bucky quickly finds the right room: a small kitchenette (he guesses).  The employees of the building probably eat their lunch here. There’s a bank of lockers in the corner of the room, one of which contains Bucky’s backpack. He opens his locker and breathes a sigh of relief upon seeing his backpack untouched, before slinging it around his shoulders and heading back onto the elevator. He presses the button for the ground floor.

He makes quick work of leaving the building, shoving his hand into his pocket upon stepping outside. The weather is beautiful, as always - the sky is clear and the only clouds in the sky are remnants from passing vehicles. He walks through a broad plaza of some sort; it’s nearly empty (by New York’s standards) and therefore somewhat eerie. He passes joyful Xandarians, and his eyes follow some of them. He’ll never get used to this place.

He enters the subway at the very end of the square, which he acknowledges as one of the only “homey” things about this planet. Although it definitely doesn’t look like New York’s underground, he’s partly glad that he’s had the opportunity to live in a world where even the subway looks like a luxury hotel.

He picks a line leading to the eastern part of the city, where he and Steve have an apartment. He can’t stop thinking about coming back to an empty home, about the fact that silence will be the only thing greeting him at the door. He keeps his eyes on the car’s floor, deep in his thoughts.

“Hey, man. Everything’s fine?” he hears an unfamiliar voice coming from his right side. His eyes bolt to a pink-skinned guy across the aisle from him, smiling sympathetically.

Bucky sighs and says, “Yeah, all good.” He clenches his jaw, nodding. “Thanks.”

“You sure? I mean, you don’t look good,” the man goes on. He takes a seat next to Bucky, still maintaining a safe distance. “Sorry for bothering you, man,” he turns down his voice, “Just want to make sure you’re all right, you know?”

Bucky’s truly astonished by this stranger’s kindness. He stares at him for a second, not quite sure what to say. “Um…” he hems, frowning, “Just had a long day…” he peeks at the man, trying to convince him with a forced smile.

“Okay.” Though the guy doesn’t seem to be convinced at all, he doesn’t ask Bucky any further questions. At least not for another thirty seconds. “You live in Nova Park?” he asks casually.

“Honestly, I don’t know where that is,” mumbles Bucky. “I moved here not so long ago.”

“Oh,” the stranger says, their tone indicative of what Bucky would consider ‘pleasant surprise.’ “So where’re you from?”

“Earth,” he smiles uncontrollably at how ridiculous that sounds.

To his surprise the man actually bursts out laughing, and Bucky suddenly feels like he doesn’t know what’s going on at all.

“What?” he asks.

“That’s a good joke, dude.” The guy’s rubbing the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath.

“I’m not joking,” protests Bucky, overwhelmed.

The guy’s face turns light purple and his features smooth out. “What?” he cackles. “What do you mean you’re from Earth? How did you get here?”

“…A spaceship,” Bucky says quietly. Now, he’s genuinely confused as to how advanced this planet – or at least its population – really is.

“Oh, so you have interstellar trips on Earth now?”

Bucky would honestly believe that the guy is joking if it wasn’t for his face. “No, it’s…” he suddenly comes back to the present, reminding himself of why he’s here. “It’s complicated.”

The man seems to notice the abrupt change of Bucky’s mood. “I’m Chavez, by the way,” he says softly. “I live in Nova Park. It’s a district, right next to Greenpoint, which is three stops away,” he explains.

“I’m Bucky,” he replies, then adds, “I think I live in Greenpoint…”

“You think?” Chavez giggles, “dude, you’d better know for sure where you live.” His voice turns worried, but quickly returns to its original cheerfulness. “Great to meet you, by the way,” he grins.

“You too,” Bucky gives out a brief but honest smile. “I know how to get there, by the way, so I won’t be getting lost or anything.”

“I hope so,” murmurs Chavez. “In case you do, or need to talk, anything, I’m gonna give you my number.” He pulls a small pen out of his pocket and reaches out to grab Bucky’s hand to write a number on his wrist.

“Thanks,” says Bucky, surprised and confused by the sudden physical contact.

“I guess you gotta go now,” says Chavez as the train stops. He pats Bucky’s shoulder as he stands up, and when Bucky exits the wagon he says, “Hang in there, Bucky,” grinning.

“Yeah, you too…Chavez.” He gives him a passive wave and heads to the nearest gateway.

 

It didn’t take him long to reach his residence, as the buildings are pretty recognizable; they’re made of matte black and reflective grey panels, and – for some reason – the concrete parts are painted orange. They aren’t high, don’t even need an elevator for only five floors.

Their apartment is on the top floor, which Bucky reaches by stairs. He pulls the keys out of his backpack and opens the door.

It’s empty (obviously), just as Bucky expected. He locks the door, throws his backpack on the ground, kicks his boots off and torpidly flings himself on the couch. He bends his knees to his chest and buries his face in his arm, trying to focus on the feeling of the fabric against his nostrils.

He has absolutely no idea what to do. He doesn’t care about eating, and he still has to endure the second half of the day, plus… every day after. He wonders what Steve’s doing: whether he’s worried, whether he’s okay, whether he’s still alive, if everything’s going according to the plan, whether Thanos decided to blow up their spaceship before anything even had a chance to start…

He turns TV on to look for a station that broadcasts in English, and after ten long minutes he finally finds a few of them. He settles on a news channel but stops paying attention as he begins sifting through his own thoughts.

He eventually gets up and takes his phone out from the backpack, then comes back to lay on the couch, covering himself half-heartedly with a blanket. He rolls his sleeve up and shakily presses the number into his phone. He slowly types a text message, not being quite sure what he wants to say. He remembers Steve teaching him how to use a cell-phone. They were both making jokes about their age.

_Hey, it’s Bucky._

He taps _send,_ then waits for the response.

_Hey, man! How’s it going?_

Bucky imagines Chavez smiling optimistically at the phone, and oddly, it relaxes him.

_Not good._

_Is there anything I can do? You wanna go to a bar?_

Bucky thinks for a moment, going over every possible danger that could occur during such a meeting. What if Chavez works for Hydra? Isn’t the fact that he, a complete stranger, would want to even befriend Bucky at least a little suspicious? But Bucky’s programming is gone, they can’t take him away, and the bar is probably full of objects that Bucky could use as weapons in case he needs to. Chavez didn’t look like he could run fast anyway.

_Yes._

_Cool! I know a great pizza place in Vesturhlio._

Bucky has no idea what Chavez is talking about. He puts his hand down, waiting for another text.

_It’s a plaza in western side of Nova Park, they have a hell lot of diners in there._

_I don’t know how to get there._

_I can pick you up, np. Wait for me at Miojan Greenpoint station. It’s where you got out last time. 5pm?_

_OK._

Bucky shows up exactly five minutes before his appointed time. He enters the platform as soon as the train arrives, which leaves him there almost completely alone, as all the Xandarians have gotten on board already. He leans over a concrete pillar, making himself visible for Chavez.

He doesn’t have to wait much longer; Chavez shows up right before the next train arrives, and they get inside the crowded wagon. Bucky grabs the metal barrier on the ceiling, though it’s still pretty difficult to keep balance. He guesses Chavez noticed it at some point, because he leaned closer to Bucky as if he were preparing to catch him from a fall.

“You been to any nice places in there already?” asks Chavez with his annoyingly optimistic smile.

“No. Mostly been staying at home,” Bucky replies politely but shortly.

“I know a lot of fun places, so if you ever need some recommendations, I’m here.”

“Thanks.” Bucky really does think Chaves is a nice guy.

 

They reach the Vesturhlio station, which turns out to be quite a popular place. It’s full of people, and Bucky doesn’t feel very comfortable or safe amongst them. Chavez leads him to the pizza place, where the outside is decorated in strings of lights, and a huge LED signboard reads _Joburg’s_.

The first thing that Bucky notices after stepping inside are various paintings on the walls, representing – as he guesses – every race living on Xandar. The paintings are truly innumerable, covering the entirety of the walls, and the locale is huge.

Chavez talks with the waitress in a language Bucky cannot understand before she shows them to a free table in an outdoor area of the restaurant. The suns are still up and the air is pleasingly warm, so Bucky appreciates being able to experience the atmosphere a bit more.

“I’ll…I’ll let you order the food, I don’t know anything about the local cuisine,” chuckles Bucky nervously as they sit.

“Alright, man. I get the same stuff every time anyway,” he giggles. “Do you like french fries?”

“Yeah,” says Bucky, phased. They have French fries here?

Chavez orders the food in the same recondite language, and the waitress leaves them as quickly as she came.

“Is that…Xandarian?” asks Bucky hesitantly.

“Oh, yes,” for some reason Chavez grins, again. “Most of the folks in there speak it. I only know Xandarian and English, but most people usually speak, like, five different languages,” he nods. “How long have you been here?”

“I don’t know…” Bucky gives an honest answer. “Not long, anyway.”

“You work somewhere?”

“No,” mumbles Bucky. He notices a concerned look on Chavez’ face, and grows anxious. “You?”

“Yeah, I’m an engineer. I’m basically fixing fucked up in machines all day,” he smirks. “Pretty boring job.”

Bucky smiles back, nodding, and there’s an awkward silence between them.

“Don’t mind me asking… what do you do for a living?” Chavez breaks the silence.

Bucky thinks for a moment. “It’s – um – complicated…”

“Dude, everything about you is complicated,” Chavez bursts out laughing.

“My… boyfriend… provides for us.” And as soon as the words leave his lips, Bucky isn’t sure how he feels about it. What will Chavez think? Bucky’s never been ashamed or anything, but he knows next to nothing about Xandarian sociology.

But when he looks up, he sees Chavez’ face light up and a grin spread across his face. “What’s his name? Am I meeting him anytime soon?” his voice sounds unexpectedly happy.

“Steve,” Bucky smiles, too, seeing Chavez’ joy. “And I don’t know…”

“ _Aww_ , you guys having some relationship problems?”

“No, it’s not – that’s not the case,” Bucky stutters. “It’s… complicated,” he turns his eyes down and tilts his head back, annoyed by his own words. “He had to leave,” he sighs. “I don’t know if he’s ever coming back.”

“Oh. I’m sorry man, but I don’t think I understand…” Chavez frowns, his voice soft.

Bucky looks down for a moment, “You guys have these, like, superheroes here, right?” Chavez nods and Bucky continues, “Steve has some…abilities, he works as a superhero, so to speak. He went on a mission today. I wanted to go with him but they wouldn’t let me. I’m just afraid that he won’t come back, you know.”

Chavez looks at him, eyes full of compassion, and leans his elbows on the table. “I am sure _he will_ come home, Bucky.”

“Thanks.” Bucky gives out a tiny smile.

Before they know it, the food is ready; the waitress places a huge pizza on the center of the table along with an assortment of sauces, a huge bucket of French fries, and large soda cups.

“You have someone?” asks Bucky, biting a fry.

“Nah. Only a dog,” Chavez grins. “Here, let me show you some pictures.” He pulls a phone out of his back pocket and scrolls up for couple seconds, then hands the smartphone to Bucky. It’s a beautiful Golden Retriever with bright shiny hair, her tongue out, and she looks like she’s smiling. Bucky smiles widely and gives the phone back to Chavez. “Her name is Rith,” Chavez sounds all proud and fond.

“I didn’t know you had dogs here,” admits Bucky, slightly embarrassed.

“We’re not savages,” Chavez says in obviously overdramatic shock.

Bucky heartily laughs. “She’s so cute. Steve and I always wanted to get some dogs, to be honest. We just never settled in one place for too long, y’know.”

“Yeah,” nods Chavez. “Well, if you guys stay here, I guess you can get a dog. Or even right now, since you’re going to be on your own for some time. A dog’s gonna keep you company.”

“Well…that sounds good.” Bucky takes another slice of pizza and pours garlic sauce on the top. “How does it even work here? Adopting a dog?” he asks.

“Um, well, not many dogs live on the streets or anything, since people usually take them home, so the shelters were taken down few years ago. But some people breed dogs for a living, then sell them. You just gotta look it up.”

“I don’t have internet,” mentions Bucky sheepishly, and Chavez laughs. “I’m older than I look,” he adds defensively.

“Well then, you can come to my place and we’ll find someone. Plus, you’ll get to meet Rith,” he says, all excited.

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it,” Bucky smiles widely, his voice soft. He takes a handful of fries and shoves them into his mouth. “Tell me something about yourself,” he mumbles, wiping his hand in a napkin. Bucky is surprised at how comfortable he’s growing around Chavez.

Chavez chuckles quietly and fidgets in his chair, pretending to prepare himself for a speech. “Okay, so, um, my favorite color is navy blue, I love my dog, obviously,” he can’t stop himself from laughing, “I like peanut butter, oh, and I’m actually transgender.”

Bucky, still trying to register what he just heard, tries not to let his confusion show; he doesn’t want to make Chavez uncomfortable. He doesn’t know too much about it, but supposes it’s not a big deal, so he just keeps smiling and thinking about how much he appreciates Chavez’s extreme kindness to him. Though he’s basically a stranger, he seems to be the only person left on the planet who cares about his well-being.

Despite Bucky’s efforts, Chavez still notices the change in Bucky’s features. “Ah. You probably don’t have many people like me on Earth, huh?”

“To be honest, I’m pretty much known for missing out on everything important that’s happened on Earth. I mean, I’ve learned that there are people like this, but I’ve never met someone before,” Bucky tries to sound as neutral as possible. “Was my reaction… offensive?” he lowers his voice.

“No, it wasn’t,” Chavez reassures him with a restful voice. “Folks usually just say something like, ‘okay’, and then move on, you know,” he chants. “There’s a lot of people who change their gender, for many reasons, and there are people with no gender, and probably some individuals who describe themselves more precisely. And people just don’t really care about it. I like it.”

“I like it, too,” Bucky nods. “I really do. I like that I can be whoever I want here, with Steve. We couldn’t have this on Earth.”

“People didn’t accept you, because you had superpowers?” Chavez frowns in disbelief.

“No. I mean, we felt out of place ‘cause of that, too. But I meant that people didn’t accept us ‘cause we were gay,” Bucky admits. He turns his eyes downward; he didn’t think talking about this would cause him so much pain.

“Gay?” Chavez asks slowly. “What’s that?”

Bucky stares at him for a moment, but he can tell Chavez is not joking. “That’s what we use to describe people who are attracted to the same gender,” he answers hesitantly.

Chavez pauses for a moment, then giggles. “You humans really do like labeling yourselves, don’t you?”

Bucky for some reason feels like a complete moron. He doesn’t think he could love this place any more, though. “Alright, then, what do you call it over here?”

“We… don’t,” he grins, raising his eyebrows. “Before I’d transitioned, I had a girlfriend. After a while I just introduced her to my family, like anyone else would do in a relationship, and they weren’t phased at all. That’s how it is here.”

“God,” Bucky shakes his head. “I think I was born on the wrong planet,” he laughs.

Chavez smiles. “Hey, when you said you’re missing out on what’s going on with Earth, what did you mean?”

Bucky suddenly feels anxious. How can he explain seventy years of torture and brainwashing to someone he just met? “I…uh, don’t really like talking about it…” He takes a sip of his soda, avoiding eye contact.

“Oh, I’m sorry. That’s okay, buddy.” Chavez points at the last slice of pizza. “Are you gonna eat that?”

“No, take it. I’m already full.”

“You sure? ‘Cause you know,” he points at his belly, “I think I should go on a diet,” he chuckles.

Bucky giggles, too. “I’m sure. Take it.”

“Thanks,” he smiles and puts the slice on his plate. “Are you going home after this? ‘Cause I can show you some cool places around town if you want.”

“Yeah, sure. I don’t really wanna go home, to be honest.” Bucky finishes his drink and plays with the empty cup in his hand.

“Cool. My flat is nearby, we can take Rith for a walk.”

“Sure, no problem.”

Chavez looks at him gratefully before taking a bite of pizza, and covering his entire mouth with honey mustard sauce.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ps. don't let the chapter title fool you


End file.
